"How do you treat it?" Hood asked.

"Antiviral therapy. We've caught the infection relatively early, and there's every reason to believe it will not spread."

"Reason to believe--"

"He's been weakened," Orly said, "and these viruses are very opportunistic. One never knows."

Jesus, Orly. "Is Sharon there?"

"Yes."

Hood asked, "Does she know?"

"Yes. I told her what I've told you."

"Let me talk to her-- and thanks."

"You're welcome. I'll check back here every hour or so."

Sharon came on a moment later.

"Paul--"

"I know. Orly's got no future with the U.N."

"It isn't that," Sharon said. "I'd rather know than not know. It's the waiting. You know I was never good at that."

"Alex is going to be okay."

"You don't know that. I worked at a hospital, Paul. I know how these things can catch fire."

"Orly wouldn't leave if the situation was serious."

"Paul, there's nothing he can do! That's why he's leaving."

Ann walked in, her hands full of lunch; she stopped just inside the door when she saw Hood's expression.

Bugs sent an E-mail message crawling across the screen: Defense Secretary Colon wanted to talk to him.

"Listen," Sharon said, "I didn't get on the phone because I want you to drop what you're doing and come here. I just needed an anchor, okay?"

Hood heard the catch in her voice; she was fighting not to cry. "Of course it's okay, Sharon. Call me if anything happens-- or I'll call you as soon as I can."

She hung up, and Hood switched from the regular phone to the secure computer phone. He felt less than a husband, less than a father, and considerably less than a man.

"Paul," Colon said sullenly, "we've just learned that your man Donald sent an unauthorized radio transmission to the North, requesting a meeting with General Hong-koo."

"What?"

"Worse, they accepted. If it gets out, we'll spin it that the North contacted him, but you'd better get on the blower and try to talk him out of it. General Schneider gave it his best shot, but Donald intends to be at the meeting."

"Thanks," Hood said, and buzzed Bugs. He told him to contact the DMZ on the secure line and get Gregory Donald on the phone. Then he rang Liz Gordon and asked her to come in.

"You want me to leave this and go?" Ann asked.

"No. I want you to stay."

Her expression brightened.

"We may have a PR nightmare on our hands."

Her expression darkened.

"Sure," she said. She sat across the desk from Hood and set the lunches between them.

"What happened with Alex?" she asked.

"Trias said he's got a lung infection. He thinks he's got it under control, but you know Orly-- doesn't read people very well."

"Hmmmm," Ann said, her eyes darkening even more.

Hood picked up the fork and jabbed at a slice of tomato. "Any word from Matt on his own virus hunt?"

"Not that I've heard. Want me to check?"